


how to not fall in love your (impossibly) straight roommate.

by turnaboutcafe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, College, Dorms, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:14:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnaboutcafe/pseuds/turnaboutcafe
Summary: when akaashi keiji is offered to room with bokuto koutarou on his first year of university, he takes the offer without thinking twice.in hindsight, maybe he should've thought thrice.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 124





	how to not fall in love your (impossibly) straight roommate.

**Author's Note:**

> AAA LATE SUBMISSION FOR BOKUAKA WEEK DAY 2 (roommates)!! <3

Akaashi sat on the rattling train, suitcase strapped securely in the compartment beside his seat, ear buds in his ear, listening intently as he worked through his third audiobook of the week. The train was quiet, barely any passengers around him as he stared blankly out of the window opposite of his own seat, observing the expanse of cloud and city whirring past them as the shinkansen moved ahead at full speed, the buildings a blur as they passed by them lightning quickly.

Akaashi’s eyes began to grow heavy as the train conductor called out their upcoming stop. Upon recognizing it as not his stop, Akaashi’s eyes began to flutter shut, the exhaustion of staying up to read the previous night finally beginning to set in.

But, before he could fully float away into sleep, an alert from his phone forced his lethargic eyes awake once again.

He slowly clicked open his phone, pausing the audiobook as he took several moments to read the message.

[ From: Bokuto-san | 9:32 am ]

_I’m already at the train station. What time is your train arriving?_

As he saw the name on the screen, Akaashi grimaced in remembrance.

_Right, Bokuto-san is picking me up from the train station._

It wasn’t that Akaashi had anything against Bokuto, he reflected. Hell, it was hard for anyone to have anything against the jovial, cheery Bokuto. Yet, seeing his name on his phone screen like it always was in his second year of university was… off putting. The way his heart beat faster in the slightest as his eyes dragged across the screen of his phone, reading his name over and over again, feelings he’d put to rest when Bokuto had graduated abruptly rising again, forcefully clawing its way through his chest, erupting; if anything, Akaashi’s feeling had never disappeared. They remained dormant, dormant until the day for it to rise came once again.

Now that he sat, clutching his phone like a teenager who’d just gotten a text from his crush (not that he was far from one), he reflected that every decision he’d made since being accepted into university was a terrible one.

And suddenly, he found himself, several months back, clutching the acceptance letter he’d received from the same university Bokuto had gotten into. It wasn’t that he applied to the school because Bokuto had gone there, he reassured himself constantly as he held the letter with trembling fingers of anxiety. No, no, he hadn’t applied there because of that. It was the literature program, the top class literature program that made the program all the more enticing. Of course, the university was an attractive prospect because of its _literature_ program, and nothing related to Bokuto Koutarou.

Texting Bokuto, telling him that he’d gotten into his university, was an equally bad idea.

Bokuto offering him a place in his empty dual residence dorm was a bad idea too.

And agreeing to live with him was the worst decision he could’ve possibly made in his entire 19 years of existence.

As his thoughts trailed on, the train slowed to a halt. “All passengers for this station, please alight. Ensure that you didn't leave behind any belongings, and make sure that you have cleared any suitcases in your possession from the baggage hold. We thank you for your time, and hope that you had a pleasant journey.

_Ah,_ Akaashi thought, pulling his sleeping legs up despite their complaints. _I’m… here._

Akaashi slowly pulled his luggage out of the baggage compartment, lugging it out of the wide exit of the shinkansen. His arms ached, the muscles he’d gotten from volleyball already beginning to deteriorate from months of having not played the sport over his break, the small luggage he had brought with him almost too heavy to drag along on his own.

“Akaashi!” a voice called out. It sounded familiar, a ringing melody in Akaashi’s ears.

Painfully familiar.

Akaashi looked up, watching as a familiar figure came running towards him. He was bigger than Akaashi had remembered, slightly taller and far more well styled than the last time he had seen him in school, walking past the school gates, clad in a graduation gown and topped with a blue hat and diploma, exiting the large gates of Fukurodani for the last time.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi nodded, pressing his lips together to suppress the smile that would betray all his emotions. “It’s been a while.”

As Bokuto neared, Akaashi’s muscles involuntarily bunched up. He waited, as if expecting a wrap of arms around him as Bokuto neared, pulling him into a signature, bone crushing hug he’d seen many people fall victim to after years of not meeting the ace. As his tall, familiar ‘once-partner’ came near, Akaashi shivered, skin crawling with the anticipation of the wrap of arms that was to come.

And yet, it never came.

“C’mon, we should go back to the dorm!” Bouto announced, reaching to take Akaashi’s suitcase from him, hauling it upwards easily. “I can show you around campus too, if you want!”

And as Bokuto led him out of the train station and on the quiet stone walkway to the dorms, only one resounding thought found its way through Akaashi’s mind.

_Oh._

The walk towards the campus was quiet, Bokuto kicking stones as he’d always done on their walks together, even back at home. Akaashi remained quiet, the large book he had been carrying in his bag now wrapped around his arms, pressed close to his chest. Bokuto, still dragging along Akaashi’s suitcase, merely stared at the road ahead, not word coming from his lips.

The silence of the walk, the only disturbance in the air the chirp of song birds, made Akaashi’s skin crawl. His third year, filled with silence at the absence of Bokuto, had become an uncomfortable constant in his life. It was an adaptation of learning to live without the adrenaline rush of early morning cheers from Bokuto, to learn to eat at the secluded rooftop and look at the skies without Bokuto commenting on the shapes of clouds, or making weird faces at the birds that passed by. 365 days without Bokuto — 365 days of silence — was all Akaashi needed to adapt.

And yet, with Bokuto by his side and the silence in the air, silence had never felt more suffocating in his life.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto finally spoke, dragging out the double a’s in his name as he always did. “How was your third year at Fukurodani?”

Akaashi paused.

_Right,_ he grimaced through pressed lips. _He wouldn’t know._

He wouldn’t know because they’d stopped texting. Despite their constant stream of messages in the first two weeks of school, the wane of communication wasn’t something that surprised Akaashi. Seeing Bokuto have fun on social media, surrounded by older friends Akaashi knew nothing about, had become the normal. Bokuto taking days to reply when he _did_ text was normal. He was busy, Akaashi had always thought. And friends, even… _best_ friends, grew apart.

Didn’t they?

“Third year was… fun,” Akaashi forced out, smiling at Bokuto for the first time. “It was… just fun.”

And the silence came again.

The sun was already beginning to rise high into the sky by the time they had reached the dorm rooms, blazing down on them. Despite the heat of the late morning sun, Bokuto didn’t mind keeping his own jacket on, guiding Akaashi through winding paths of the university campus dorm.

“My dorm is on the third floor,” Bokuto explained. “I’ll help you with the luggage; we have to take the stairs.”

And so, the grueling climb to the third floor began.

Akaashi fiddled with his fingers as Bokuto climbed the stairs in front of him, muscles straining slightly from the weight of the luggage. Akaashi tried not to look each time Bokuto hauled the luggage over a set of stairs, choosing to avert his eyes to the walls of the stairwell instead. Yet, several times his eyes travelled to the strain of muscles on Bokuto’s arm as he carried the luggage up, eyes remaining on the spot for several moments before he shook himself out of his trance, averting his eyes elsewhere instead.

“Here we are,” Bokuto announced, puffing slightly as he settled the luggage on the floor. “Let me take my keys…”

Bokuto inserted the key after several long moments of silence, turning the door open.

Bokuto’s dorm was cleaner than Akaashi had expected it to be. It wasn’t a stranger to several piles of messes, but considering what Bokuto had been like during volleyball training camps in the past, Akaashi could confidently say that it was a major upgrade.

Akaashi settled his luggage in a corner of the room, opting to take a tentative seat at one of the sofas, tensing slightly as the cushion sank below his weight. Bokuto, already at the kitchen, was taking two cups from his cupboard, filling them both with water.

“If you aren’t too tired,” Bokuto suggested, settling one of the cups in Akaashi’s hands as he took a seat next to him on the sofa, “I could take you around the campus so you know where to find your classes before your first day next week.”

Akaashi paused, gripping his cup tightly as he sipped the water.

_Like a date._

As soon as the thought came into his mind, he shook it away.

_No, not like a date._

“Sure,” he nodded, taking another sip of the water. “I’d… like that.”

Bokuto’s eyes lit up. “Sure! Then—”

But, before Bokuto could continue his next words, a weird trilling sound rang through the air.

Akaashi looked up, watching as an odd look came over his now room mate’s eyes, the dual haired ace jumping up to run to the door, fingers running through his hair before he turned the door knob to answer the ring of the doorbell.

Akaashi stood up, curious at the appearance of a new person.

Behind the door, a girl stood, long ash gray hair extending down her hair, pin straight and well style with a section of her hair tied up behind her head. She was wearing a short pleated black skirt, dark blue shirt reminding Akaashi of the shirts they wore at Fukurodani during unofficial practice matches. And, hanging on her shoulders was...

An all too familiar oversized Fukurodani jacket.

“Bokuto-san, you’re late already,” she complained. “Everyone’s already at the restaurant! I lost at rock paper scissors, so they told me to pick you up from your dorm. We agreed on 11 pm, remember?”

Despite her words, the slight tinge on her cheeks suggested to Akaashi that she hadn’t lost a game of rock paper scissors.

“Ah, right!” Bokuto wailed, covering his face with his hands. “Give me five minutes, I’ll take a jacket and meet everyone at the restaurant.”

“Is that your new room mate?” she asked, peeking out from behind Bokuto’s shoulders.

“Yeah!” Bokuto enthused, moving to let the girl catch a better look at Akaashi, the ace moving to retreat to his dorm. “He used to go to highschool with me and he got accepted here, so why not room together?”

“That’s… a great idea,” she smiled, the serene expression on her face hiding the strain of her voice. Yet, Akaashi could sense the tenseness in her tone. “You must be Akaashi-san, Bokuto has told us a lot about you.”

“Ah,” Akaashi murmured, standing up from where he was on the sofa to bow at the girl. “I apologize, you don’t have to use honorifics with my name since you’re older than I am.”

“You’re as polite as Bokuto says you are,” she says. The strain in her smile is there for the briefest moment.

“Hey, Sayaka-chan, I’m done,” Bokuto calls out from the open door of his room. He emerges with a dark jacket and usual athletic gear, his usual black shoes already slipped on. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Sayaka nods, slipping her hand into the empty space between Bokuto’s side and arm, effectively looping their arms together. “It was nice to meet you, Akaashi.”

“It was… nice to meet you too, Sayaka-san,” Akaashi bowed.

Before Bokuto left the room, he turned around, turning to look at Akaashi. “Ah, Akaashi, about the tour of the campus, is it alright if I give you the tour after I have lunch? I won’t take very long!”

Something pierced Akaashi’s chest. “Ah, right. It’s alright, Bokuto-san.”

“Great!” Bokuto smiled, turning to close the door. “Let’s go, Sayaka-chan.”

_Sayaka… chan._

And so, Akaashi retreated to what he assumed was his room, flopping into the made bed. As he did, the lethargy seeped away from his muscles, relaxing slightly. But, as he stared at the plain ceiling, the only thing accompanying him the silence of the dorm, he spiraled.

His mind travelled to Bokuto, sitting happily at a restaurant, seated next to a smiling Sayaka. He imagined Bokuto hugging her as he left to return back to the dorm, sending her back before he went his own way. Bokuto, smiling happily at Sayaka as he did at Akaashi once, a long time ago, when he finally got a straight right. Bokuto, hugging Sayaka, a gentle, tender hug that Akaashi had only seen him give his teammates after a crushing defeat. Bokuto, smiling at something other than a perfectly spiked ball.

Bokuto, smiling at someone other than him.

_It’s dumb,_ Akaashi thought, bitter tone seeping even to his head. _It’s dumb to fall in love with someone who can’t love you back._

But even as he said that, he found himself at the Fukurodani graduation again, clapping louder than he’d ever had as Bokuto’s name was called up by their principal. He remembers standing up in the crowd of volleyball players, all of them cheering loudly as their captain walked the stage. He remembered taking a bouquet of yellow tulips from the florist before school was let up, slipping out of his last period to take the arrangement for Bokuto.

He remembers slipping a card between the stalks of the petals, neatly written in a penmanship he’d spent too much time perfecting for a single card, for a mere six words. 

He remembers walking to Bokuto that day after school, fingers tense around the floral arrangement as he approached the boy. He remembers picking out the card from the tulips, stuffing it into his own pocket instead before he handed it to Bokuto, cheeks tinged as pink as the afternoon sky above, glistening eyes betraying all emotion.

_”Happy graduation, Bokuto-san,”_ he’d said, forcing the pressure on his tightening throat away.

_”Yellow tulips?”_ Bokuto had asked, thumbing the delicate petals gently. _”Why?”_

_”They… reminded me of you,”_ Akaashi had settled on.

_Because yellow tulips are the symbol of unrequited love,_ he bit back, teeth clenched.

_”I’ll miss you, Akaashi,”_ Bokuto had smiled, gentle gaze settling on him.

_Will you really…?_

_Bokuto… san?_

Akaashi bowed, and walked away from Bokuto for a final time, fingers clenched around the card he’d written six words on, the card he’d spent so long trying to write.

He slipped the card from his pocket, ripping it into two, and stuffed it into the nearest bin.

And as Akaashi watched Bokuto slip past the school gates one last time, dressed proudly in his blue graduation gown and hat, he smiled bitterly, and let his watering eyes shut tight.

_I’m sorry that I love you._

_Bokuto…_

_-san._   
  


* * *

  
  
Akaashi woke up the next morning to the smell of toast and coffee wafting into his room through the kitchen.

He slowly stretched up, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up. Stumbling out of the room, he blinked several times, trying to push away the blurriness in his vision, cursing as he realized that the blurriness wasn’t because of his sleepiness, and only an extension of his growing near sightedness.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi acknowledged, approaching his friend. He was behind the stovetop, toast grilling on the pan, a pair of tongs in his free hand. At his voice, Bokuto immediately turned around, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Akaashi,” he nodded. “I didn’t expect you to be that exhausted, you slept through the entire day.”

Akaashi nodded. “I apologize for not waking up, I should have accompanied you for dinner.”

“It’s alright!” he laughed. “I went for dinner with Sayaka, so it wasn’t like I was alone.”

_Right._

“One plate of toast, coming right up!” Bokuto enthused, his usual cheery manner evident even in the way he placed the plate of food in front of Akaashi. As he did, his gaze lingered on Akaashi for a moment longer than he usually did.

Akaashi’s heart skipped a beat.

“Since you don’t have class today,” Bokuto began, placing his own piece of toast on a plate and settling some scrambled eggs between them, “do you want to go around campus today? It’ll be a lot of fun!”

Akaashi didn’t think he ever nodded more quickly than he did at that moment.

Soon, Akaashi and Bokuto were on the university campus, slowly walking through the stone walkways paved between the various buildings. Every five minutes, an acquaintance of Bokuto would pass them, waving and greeting him comfortably, Bokuto smiling back at them. As Akaashi looked at Bokuto wave at yet another acquaintance of his that they had passed, he sighed. As always, Bokuto was popular. 

“You’re quieter than usual, Akaashi,” Bokuto commented as they passed a science building. 

“Am I?” Akaashi asked, staring off into the sky. “I’m just… a quiet person, I guess.”

“You guess?” Bokuto laughed. “You’re the quietest person I know.”

A beat.

“Not that I mind.”

Akaashi smiled, hiding the curve of his lips behind his arm, pulling it up in a fake cough. 

“How’s the club doing these days?” Bokuto asked, steps large. He was brushing against Akaashi now, the slightest bit of warmth peeking through his sweater. “I watched nationals, you know.”

“You… did?” Akaashi murmured, looking at him. “Why?”

“I don’t just abandon my teammates like that!” Bokuto protested. “Of course I watched. I wanted to see the new team you trained, and the first years I trained when I was still on the team!”

A moment of silence.

“I wanted to see you too, of course,” he smiled, eyes crinkling at the upward turn of lips. “I haven’t seen you in a whole year, I couldn’t miss the chance to see you sets again; they’re still as good as I remember them being, ‘Kaashi.”

That was all it took for Akaashi’s heart to stutter again.

“It’s nothing,” Akaashi mumbled, turning his face away, hiding the heat rising on his cheeks.

They continued to walk, the silence between them only broken as Bokuto pointed out different places in the school, telling Akaashi about the ten rules he’d broken in each place. Akaashi grimaced at each story, a slight hint of amusement peeking through on his face despite his distaste for Bokuto’s rule breaking streak.

Clearly, not many things had changed.

“Look, Akaashi!” Bokuto piped up, pointing towards something in the distance.

An ice cream cart sat amongst a garden of cherry blossoms, pink flowers floating through the air, fluttering and falling with the wind. The pale pink ice cream cart matched the scenery perfectly, further accentuated by the beautiful emerald green fields that lay on the foundation of the landscape, shaded from the soft sunlight by the branches of the cherry blossom, soft shadows cast upon the ground in which it stood.

“We should get ice cream!” Bokuto continued, already beginning to drag Akaashi by the wrist to the stand.

“Bokuto-san, we just had breakfast,” Akaashi pointed out, yet he didn’t pull back as Bokuto continued to drag him towards the cart.

“Who cares?” Bokuto laughed, turning around. “We’re adults, we can get ice cream whenever we want!”

As Bokuto turned around, Akaashis saw it. Bokuto’s bright, cheery smile, one he had been deprived of for so long, was staring back at him, sunshine bright, perfect white teeth glinting in the sunlight. His eyes were crinkled around the corners, almost shut close from how largely he was smiling.

_Oh,_ Akaashi’s heart stuttered.

“Alright.”

And that’s how Akaashi found himself seated next to Bokuto on a park bench, ice cream cone that Bokuto had paid for in hand, gently taking licks of the sugary treat. Bokuto, next to him, had his ice cream in a cup, greedily shoving in spoons of his chocolate flavoured ice cream into his mouth, as if it would disappear if he didn’t eat it fast enough.

“You’re still hungry, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, taking a small lick of his ice cream. 

“Second breakfast is necessary,” Bokuto insisted.

Akaashi smiled, taking another taste of his ice cream. It was sugary sweet, artificial flavor cheap tasting in his mouth. It was unlike the ice cream he was used to eating, having never eaten ice cream that was sold in stalls on the street. 

Yet, seated next to Bokuto, it tasted like the best thing in the world.

“You know, Akaashi,” Bokuto began, “these cherry blossoms remind me of Fukurodani.”

Akaashi knew exactly what Bokuto meant.

“Valentine’s day on your third year,” Akaashi murmured.

Suddenly, the ice cream wasn’t so interesting anymore.

Bokuto smiled. “You remember?”

_How could I not?_

And there Akaashi was, sixteen with a box of chocolates in hand, a handwritten letter in the other. He stood in the field of cherry blossoms just outside of Fukurodani’s main building, eyes fixed on a single figure in the distance. Bokuto, tall and surrounded by falling petals, uniform messed up in his usual fashion, blazer rolled up at the sleeves and shirt untucked. 

As he continued to look at his captain, the ace he had spent so many hours with, the letter crinkled under the pressure of his fingers, creases forming on it.

_Dear Bokuto-san,_ he had begun the letter with.

_I’m in love with you._

But before he could step forward, there she was.

A third year girl, a box of cupcakes and her own letter in hand, approaching Bokuto with dusted cheeks at the pushing of her friends. He watched as she looked at Bokuto with wide eyes, gently presenting the box of baked goods at him. Akaashi watched, watched as Bokuto’s eyes widened, gently pressing his calloused fingers around the box. He watched as Bokuto smiled at the girl, murmuring something that Akaashi couldn’t hear from the distance he was at.

He watched as the girl didn’t burst into tears, a wide smile painted on her face instead. He stared, observing as she came back to her friends, excitedly telling them about her date that Sunday.

_”Akaashi!”_ Bokuto had smiled. _”I have a date on Sunday!”_

Akaashi had smiled, lowering the box of chocolates, placing them on his table and returning them back into the paper bag he had brought them in. He looked up at Bokuto’s glowing face, his shining eyes and rosy cheeks as he told Akaashi about his upcoming date in excruciating detail.

And so he uttered a single lie.

_”I’m happy for you.”_

_”I’m so happy for you, Bokuto-san.”_

Bokuto’s grasp on his shoulder pulled him back, the sensation of oozing ice cream on his fingers coming through him. He could feel the bitter smile on his face, the wetness of tears in his eyes, the painful tensing of his muscles.

“Are you okay, Akaashi?” Bokuto murmured. His head was angled towards him, concern glinting in his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?”

_Yes,_ he cried.

“No, Bokuto-san,” he said, forcing a smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Without a word, Bokuto took his empty hand into his own, gently pulling him out of the bench they were seated at.

“Bokuto-san, where are we going?” Akaashi mumbled, a silent thanks sent to the gods at the lack of red rising on his cheeks.

“Somewhere that will make you happy,” Bokuto smiled.

_That damn smile._

And so, they went on their path, through winding concrete walkways and stumbling across sharp turns, Bokuto’s hand wrapped around his own in guidance as he dragged Akaashi through the campus, hand warm and gentle on his own.

Before Akaashi could process where they had stopped, Bokuto let go of his hand, warmth leaving him. As it did, disappointment washed over Akaashi, the warmth he had held onto so tightly just moments before suddenly leaving him without explanation.

“Bokuto-san—”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto murmured, smiling gently as he softly threw something towards him.

Akaashi caught it. It was round, familiar even before he set his eyes on it.

With a gesture to the volleyball in his hand, Bokuto grinned. “Toss to me?”

Akaashi’s heart softened, heart trembling.

“Of course, Bokuto-san.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Akaashi exited the shower, hair still wet. His muscles hurt, exhausted from the two hours they had spent on the court, Bokuto’s spikes relentless against each ball that Akaashi had tossed. By no means had his sets been perfect, an attribute only tied to his lack of practice, but Bokuto spiked them all, a laugh of ‘nice toss, Akaashi!’ punctuating each spike.

Akaashi sighed, moving towards the living room, towel around his shoulders, looking up as a loud bump came from the kitchen.

Akaasi peeked into the kitchen, watching as Bokuto rushed around, washing his hands in the sink and taking a cake out of the fridge. He was dressed more formally than he usually was, a black long sleeved button-up tucked into form fitting jeans, muscles evident under the fairly tight fitting clothes. At the top of his shirt, several buttons were popped open, showing his collarbone.

He tried very hard not to stare.

“Are you going somewhere, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked, heart clenched. The air smelled of cologne — expensive cologne.

_He doesn’t wear cologne. He never does._

“Yep!” Bokuto smiled, placing the cake into a paper bag that he extracted from the cabinet under the kitchen sink.

Before Akaashi could stop himself, another question came tumbling from his lips. “To where?”

“A famous restaurant just outside of campus,” Bokuto smiled, packing in a plastic knife. “It’s not that far out; I’ll be back before you even know it.”

Akaashi sat himself at the kitchen island, seated on a stool. “A celebration?”

Bokuto paused. “A gathering for a birthday.”

“Ah—”

“Sayaka’s, actually.”

The air filled with silence.

As the silence prolonged, Akaashi bit his lip, a silent beg cast towards Bokuto to fill the air with chatter. Yet, Bokuto did none of that, the silence remaining.

“Right,” Akaashi nodded. “It’ll be fun, I assume.”

“Of course,” Bokuto said, smiling. 

Akaashi didn’t miss how much more formal Bokuto’s tone had been, a far cry from his usual rambunctious, crass style.

And so, Akaashi sat, watching as Bokuto continued to pack his things into the paper bag, stuffing wax birthday candles and a wrapped gift into the bag. His eyes trailed Bokuto, travelling to the sink as Bokuto paused to wash the knife, going back to the kitchen island as Bokuto packed the final things for the celebration he was due to leave to that night.

“Alright,” Bokuto announced, silence fragile between them. “I’ll be going.”

He continued to watch as Bokuto lifted the bag into his hands, carefully balancing the precious cake in the bag. He watched as Bokuto took slow steps towards the door, painfully slow as he reached to twist the doorknob.

Akaashi tried, tried so hard to stop himself.

And yet, he couldn’t.

“Bokuto-san,” he murmured. “Please don’t go on that date.”

The words, as silent as the coldness between them, barely escaped his lips as Bokuto turned the doorknob. They were as silent as the whooshing of wind at dawn, barely as audible as the crackle of branches in a loud woods, as surreptitious as the slinking of a fox in the moonlight.

And yet, as those words left his lips, Bokuto’s fingers stopped.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto murmured, his question more of a statement than a sentence seeking an answer.

Akaashi blinked, and a feeling of unease settling into him. “I apologize, Bokuto-san, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Akaashi—”

“Please go ahead,” Akaashi bit out, pressing his lips into a thin smile, ignoring the piercing of his heart. “I’m sure Sayaka-san would appreciate it if you were there on time.”

Bokuto left the door, gently stepping towards him. As he neared, Akaashi’s breath caught, heart erratic against his chest, each palpitation painful as he stared at Bokuto, teeth biting his lip so hard that he felt that it would puncture at any moment.

And before Akaashi could stop it, Bokuto was in front of him, inches away.

“Akaashi, are you alright?” Bokuto murmured, eyes gentle as he stared at Akaashi.

“I’m fine,” Akaashi insisted, giving Bokuto another of his smiles. “I’m perfectly—”

His voice caught.

“—fine.”

Bokuto pulled up a second stool, settling beside Akaashi. “You’ve been acting weird, ever since you moved in.”

_Ever since I saw you again._

“Is it something I did?” Bokuto murmured, voice gentle. “You have to tell me, Akaashi. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“There is nothing to help, Bokuto,” Akaashi said, smiling again. He could begin to feel the wetness of tears, the blurring of his vision as he stared at Bokuto’s gentle face, breath gently fanning his own cheeks. “There is nothing to fix.”

“If there’s something I can—”

_You can’t._

“—do, then I’d definitely do it,” Bokuto said, voice scared, as if he was fearful of breaking him. “You have to tell me—”

“I apologize, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiled, bitterness swelling on his face in salty tears, running down his cheeks. “But this time, you can’t do anything.”

“Akaashi—”

“I’m sorry, Bokuto—”

Before Akaashi could complete his sentence, Bokuto’s hand was on his cheek, calloused hand cupping his face. In moments, Bokuto’s lips were on his, gentle, intercepting the tears. They were warm, movements gentle as the press of lips continued. They were gentle, far from what Akaashi had known Bokuto as. The kiss, careful and calculated, was soft, as if Akaashi was something he could break—

As if he was scared of breaking him.

And yet, the tears continued to flow. 

“Akaashi—”

“Don’t do that if you don’t mean it, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi spoke, words bitter even as he said them, knives stabbing at his heart. “Don’t do it just because you feel bad.”

“Akaashi—”

The tears continued to flow. _”Don’t do it if you don’t actually like me!”_

But before Akaashi could say more, it met him again. The press of lips, more fiercely this time, both of Bokuto’s hands now on his face, bringing him closer, Akaashi’s own hands coming to Bokuto’s styled hair. It was fiery, electric as Bokuto continued to press his lips on Akaashi. Akaashi trembled as it continued, the fierceness that blossomed from a simple press of lips overwhelming him in warmth, the grazing of teeth meeting his already kiss-red lips, brushing over them in the slightest.

Akaashi pulled away, breaths staggered as he stared at Bokuto.

Bokuto’s own lips were reddened, eyes wide as he stared back at Akaashi. His perfectly styled hair, now falling down from their previous spikes, were tousled from Akaashi’s fingers, cheeks stained red.

Bokuto’s breath ghosted his lips. “Akaashi.”

“Bokuto-san.”

He smiled, an almost smirk. “I don’t think I can leave now.”

And before Akaashi could protest, Bokuto’s kiss bruised lips met his again.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed it, please do consider leaving a like and kudos!


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